


Seven Days

by NicoleNostalgia



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M, Near Future, Post-redemption Hartley, Pre-Relationship, Sickfic, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 04:12:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3514883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicoleNostalgia/pseuds/NicoleNostalgia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hartley let out a sigh, “You confronted the metahuman.” It wasn’t a question.</p><p>”I confronted the metahuman,” he confirmed. Cisco shook his head, “Don’t—”</p><p>”Idiot,” Hartley interrupted. He turned away, his breath caught in his throat. Swallowing, he shook his head. “Her abilities kill,” he turned on the spot, “You do realize that?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Days

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt from tumblr by shipping-harbor.
> 
> This is set throughout 7 days. Hartley has only recently been “reformed." It's pre-relationship Hartmon.

#### 1

”You did _what_?” Hartley bristled, his eyes narrowing as he watched a pallid Cisco down a glass of water.

Cisco looking up from the counter he was sitting at, “I’m just a little sick,” he said, resting his head in his hands.

Hartley was across the room in several strides. Placing his palms on the counter, he glared down at him. “What did you do?” His face relaxed as he realized. He let out a sigh, “You confronted the metahuman.” It wasn’t a question.

”I confronted the metahuman,” he confirmed. Cisco shook his head, “Don’t—”

”Idiot,” Hartley interrupted. He turned away, his breath caught in his throat. Swallowing, he shook his head. “Her abilities kill,” he turned on the spot, “You do realize that?”

”No, I completely forgot,” Cisco’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, “It’s just a headache. What do you care, anyway?”

”And if it’s not? Do you plan on just sitting around until you start coughing up blood?” He didn’t wait for a response, walking out of the room and into the adjacent one.

”It’s more than just a cold, isn’t it?” His tone was harsh as he stopped in front of Barry and Caitlin.

”The illness isn’t contagious, Hartley,” Caitlin said.

”I’m aware. Did she infect Cisco?”

Caitlin and Barry looked more than a little surprised. “We’re trying to figure that out,” Barry said as he gestured to the lab work.

”If he’s infected...” he broke off. “How long did the victims last?”

Caitlin glanced at Barry, who shrugged in response. “Well,” she began, “It depends on a majority of factors. She can induce viral disease—anything from Marburg to a fatal case of the flu. So that has to be taken into consideration. It also seems to be affected by range. At a certain distance, you’re safe.” Caitlin shook her head, “One of the victims died within hours, but most lasted one to four days. The victim who survived the longest only lived for about six days.”

#### 2

Rain was coming down in sheets outside. Any other time it would have been soothing to Hartley. He was drumming his fingers on the tabletop when Cisco walked in.

”Where is everyone?” Cisco asked in a miserable tone.

Hartley lifted his eyes slowly, “In the lab working on a ‘cure’. I couldn’t work with them constantly talking.” He glanced down at his his own work. Rubbing his hand over his mouth, he sighed. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

Cisco dropped himself into the chair across from Hartley, who raised an eyebrow at it. “I should be helping, not sleeping.”

”You’re hardly helpful when you’re _not_ dying.” He regretted the word the moment it left his lips, but Cisco had no obvious response to it. “No backtalk? Surprising. Now go back upstairs. At the very least you’re impairing my work.”

”How’s the cure coming along?” Cisco asked, rubbing his bloodshot eyes.

”Well,” there was an edge in Hartley’s voice, “as far as we know, she can induce any viral disease. Right now you have, at worst, a bad case of the flu. But—”

”But it shares a lot of symptoms with other, more dangerous diseases. I get it.”

Hartley tried to work up more irritation on his part, but it fell flat as he said, “Don’t try to act intelligent.” He stared hard at the papers in front of him, his fingers twitching. “Her abilities cause it to progress far more quickly than it usually would.” He looked up at Cisco, who was watching him intently. He looked pathetic. Hartley pressed his lips into a thin line, then stood.

”Where are you going?” Cisco asked, his eyes following Hartley as he moved around the table.

Hartley grabbed him by the arm, practically pulling him to his feet. “You’re going upstairs to rest.”

”Hartley—”

He pulled Cisco towards the door, despite his weak protests.

 

Cisco was sitting on the bed, the covers thrown down at the end of the bed.

Hartley sneered at him, “Stop whining and go to sleep.” God, he felt ridiculous.

”I don’t even get why you care,” Cisco muttered.

Hartley had had his hand on the door handle. Damn. “Because all this work is useless if you get killed being a moron.”

Cisco leaned back against the headboard, “When Barry has to take her down, a cure would probably come in handy.”

Hartley’s stared at the door, his hand still gripping the handle. He didn’t know the answer himself. “Go the fuck to sleep, Cisco.” The door slammed behind him.

#### 3

Barry entered the room, worry etched into his face. Caitlin, Wally, and Hartley looked up expectantly.

”He’s just getting sicker. The medicine isn’t even helping,” Barry said, running his fingers through his hair.

Caitlin stepped forward, “We can’t be sure that it’s not working.” She didn’t exactly sound cheery.

Hartley glowered at the equipment and stacks of papers in front of him. He set his jaw, clenching and unclenching his hand. He felt Wally’s hand grip his shoulder. Looking at Wally, he saw that knowing, somber look. He pulled away from the comfort, pushing himself up from his seat and walking past Barry. He could feel everyone’s eyes boring into his back, but he kept walking.

 

He shoved the door to the small makeshift bedroom open. Cisco was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up at him. He stood in the doorway silent for a moment before entering. He shut the door behind him. He searched for his words, finally settling with, “Why aren’t you lying down?”

”Can’t sleep,” Cisco answered. He was twisting a hair tie around his index fingers, “‘S hot.”

Hartley sat on the bed beside him, watching him. Cisco was noticeably sweating, strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Hartley reached out and took the hair tie, mumbling, “Come on.”

Cisco looked at him with narrow eyes, his eyebrows knitted together in obvious confusion. Then, with a sigh, he shook his head and turned his back to Hartley.

Leaning up, Hartley gently brushed Cisco’s hair from his face, pulling it back and securing it with the hair tie. “There,” he stated, dropping his hands back in his lap.

”Thanks.” Cisco turned to face Hartley, sniffing. Rubbing the back of his neck, he wouldn’t look Hartley in the eye. “Sorry about,” he paused, taking a shaky breath, “yesterday.” He shifted himself to the center of the bed and leaned back against the pillow, “So, does this make us friends?”

It was Hartley’s turn to look confused. Them? Friends? He smirked, “As if.”

Cisco laughed despite everything.

#### 4

Hartley let out a string of curses at the man dragging him along by the wrist. “We need to work on the cure,” he barked.

”You need,” Wally stated matter-of-factly, “to take a break. You’ve been working for hours straight. And you’re always a bit happier after you see Cisco.”

”If you’re implying what I think you’re implying—”

Wally waggled his eyebrows as they approached the room. He opened the door, shoving Hartley in ahead of him. “How are you feeling?”

”Like I’m metaphorically dying,” Cisco groaned. “Metaphorically, not literally.” His voice was stuffy and his arms were crossed over his stomach.

Wally quickly backed into the doorway, out of Hartley’s reach. “Well, I need to help Barry and Caitlin, but Hartley will keep you company—right, Hartley?” He didn’t even give Hartley a chance to respond. He was gone, shutting the door behind him. Cisco gave Hartley a suspicious glance, but said nothing.

Hartley sat at the end of the bed. “Nauseous?” he asked.

”Yeah,” Cisco answered, leaning his head back against the headboard and closing his eyes. “This sucks.”

”It does.” Hartley rubbed his hands together. Cisco only looked worse off than the day before. He reached out and grasped Cisco’s hand. Cisco didn’t open his eyes, but Hartley felt him squeeze his hand.

”Do you think it was really her? The metahuman?”

Lifting his eyes, he found Cisco looking at him. He gave a weak shrug, “I doubt it’s a coincidence.”

”So, you think I’m going to die?”

”No,” his voice wavered.

#### 5

”Goddamn it, Cisco.” Hartley tossed the papers in the general direction of the table, moving to Cisco’s side. “You need something, you call someone. How hard is that to understand?” He made a move to grab Cisco at the waist, but his hand was slapped away.

”I don’t need any help.” Regardless of his words, Cisco’s fingers gripped Hartley’s shoulder almost to the point of pain. He allowed Hartley to stay beside him as he crossed the hall, back into the room, and sat on the edge of the bed. He was shivering as he said, “No way I could’ve called and waited for one of you,” he tried to still his shaking hands, “that’s not how heaving works.”

”You look like you’re about to pass out,” Hartley snapped. Turning on his heels he snatched up a spare blanket from the table, “You have chills, don’t you?”

Cisco swung his legs onto the bed and pulled the covers up to his waist. “On top of everything else, yeah.”

”Will you just lay down?” Hartley laid out the blanket over the comforter. Cisco did as he asked, despite rolling his eyes.

Cisco gave a slight smile, “This is even worse than that time you gave me a concussion.”

Hartley brushed a loose strand of Cisco’s hair from his face,”Go to sleep.”

#### 6

Hartley leaned back in his chair. “How’s it coming along?” Wally was sitting next to him, asleep with his head laying on his arms. Hartley shoved him and snorted when Wally jumped awake.

Caitlin’s voice called from behind him, “It’s not finished. We’re making a lot of progress, but I don’t know if…” she fell silent.

Barry walked in, “Cisco says he’s feeling a little better. It looks like maybe his fever broke.” He rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh, “That doesn’t mean we were wrong, though.”

”If it was because of Page’s abilities, it will probably come back with vengeance,” Hartley said flatly. He couldn’t deny the small sliver of hope that had risen in him, and Wally’s hopeful smile in his direction didn’t help.

#### 7

Hartley’s phone started buzzing at five in the morning. He assumed the worse.

”Hey, Pipe,” Wally had that tone in his voice that he always had when he was about to make Hartley very, very angry. “So, I know it’s super early, but I figured you’d find this funny.”

Hartley sat up in his bed. “I’m going to have to murder you, aren’t I?” he asked in a groggy voice.

”Well, no, not me,” there was a long pause before he added, “probably Cisco.”

Hartley rubbed his eyes, trying to piece together what Wally meant. “What are you talking about?” He grabbed his glasses and put them on.

”Well, so you know how we thought Page was the reason that Cisco was sick?”

”Oh my God,” Hartley was out of bed in seconds, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he pulled open the drawers of his dresser and started grabbing clothes.

”Yeah, funny thing, right? It looks like it was probably just a really bad case of the flu or something. A coincidence.” When Hartley didn’t respond his voice filled with more dread, “Hartley? You’re coming here aren’t you?”

”Yes, I am.” Hartley was pulling his pants on, seething.

”Hey, why don’t you, uh, take a shower and eat some breakfast first? Take some time to cool down?”

”No.”

”What are you going to do?” Wally asked in defeat.

”I’m going to kill him.”

 

Hartley stormed into the labs to find a still fairly sick Cisco talking with Caitlin, Barry, and Wally. He stopped in front of Cisco, arms crossed over his chest. He ignored the stunned silence of the others and, most of all, he ignored the desperate urge to close the gap between them and show Cisco how _grateful_ he was that he was going to be alright.

Cisco spoke first, simply breathing out, “Hartley.”

”All of this,” he gestured widely, “and you weren’t even in any real danger.” All of the closeness and worry and the realization that there might be more than simple physical attraction. He didn’t care about the cure.

”I said I didn’t think it was Page,” Cisco retorted, his voice raised.

”Because I value your opinion so highly.” Sarcasm coated his every word.

”I was right!”

”Do you remember that concussion you mentioned?” Hartley leaned closer, his words low and threatening, “I’m about to give you another.”

He didn’t like how the corner of Cisco’s mouth twitched into a smirk.


End file.
